All I Mean to You
by Parker Joe
Summary: The Gallery opening brought a lot of facts to light. When Morgan confronts Ava, how much is the truth...and how much was a lie? Morgan/Ava smut.


**A different spin on the fallout after Julian revealed himself after the gallery show. Canon with the show, the only difference is Ava never found Morgan on the docks afterward.**

Morgan emerged from the inky darkness, the light from the lobby spilling out on the building's cold cement steps.

The doorman's frozen breath puffed skyward as he blew on his hands to warm them. Catching him from the corner of his eye, he snapped to a more professional bearing, clearing his throat before offering a hushed, "Good evening, Mr. Corinthos," and holding the door open.

"Yeah...whatever," Morgan replied, cringing at the sound of his father's name. How many years had he trailed in his father's wake, while endless chauffers, waiters, doormen, and other assorted lackeys had said those same exact words? "My name is Morgan."

"Mr. Corinthos?"

"I said Morgan!" The outburst echoed down the deserted lobby, drawing a puzzled look from the desk clerk to match the one on the doorman's face. Embarrassed, he drew in a deep breath and lowered his voice. "Dude...you don't have to call me anything but Morgan, okay? Like Rihanna or Miley. Mr. Corinthos is my father. And I don't want to be confused with him. Got it?"

"Of course, sir," the man replied deferentially.

"Thanks," Morgan mumbled, realizing there was pity in the man's eyes. Ignoring it, he took two more steps, and the door started to close behind him. He stepped back, blocking it open. "You work all night?" he asked.

"Yes sir. Twenty four hour door service here at the International."

"Is Ava in?"

"Sir?"

"Hot blonde. Moved in about a month ago. Penthouse on six."

"Ms. Jerome, sir?"

"Yeah. Ms. Jerome. _Is_ she in?" Seeing hesitation, Morgan leaned in closer, just like he'd seen his old man do a million times. "C'mon man...it's no secret I'm there all the time."

"Of course, Mr-_Morgan_," the doorman amended, clearing his throat. "She arrived about an hour ago," he replied quietly.

"Thank you-"

"Thomas, sir."

"Thank you, Thomas," Morgan replied, committing the name to memory and wishing he had the cash to slide something into his hand...another tatic Sonny used liberally around town. "I appreciate it."

The door of the elevator opened whisper-quiet to the sixth floor. Morgan followed the hallway, to 6J. J for Jerome. Knowing her now, he doubted that was luck. Mikey had been right- as much as he hated it-Ava had targeted him months ago. Coincidence and luck were not in the Jerome dictionary.

Deciding to hear the truth from her own lips, he turned the knob clockwise only to find the chain still barred his entry. "Ava-c'mon. I know you're in there."

Morgan heard footsteps. The door suddenly clapped shut, the chain scraped against metal and then swung free, pinging off the wood frame. Taking a deep breath, he twisted the knob clockwise again.

She sat calmly in the chair opposite the door. Still wearing the dress she'd worn to the opening, her legs were curled under her, shoes discarded on the floor. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Why not?" he shot back sarcastically, closing the door with more force than necessary. It startled her, but she covered it well. "Your chumps usually just run off after getting beat up one too many times? Too stupid to realize you've been yanking the strings all along? Or do they just end up dead?"

All she offered was a sardonic smile. "I suppose I deserved that. But I rarely meet anyone who owes me money. My people encourage prompt payment."

"So, I'm special?"

"You're a Corinthos. It wasn't about you, Morgan. It was about exploiting an advantage. Bleeding Sonny. Getting a feel for the man. How he reacted, where his buttons are."

"So, you used me."

Her eyes bored into him. "Yeah, I did."

"And that works how? You whore your daughter to any rival mob family you need researched?"

"Don't _ever_ call her that again."

It was the second crack in her icy demeanor. "So you only whored her out to me?"

Ava leapt from the chair and in two steps, stood defiantly before him. With her shoes off, she came up to his chest, a petite bundle of pure anger. There was fire in her eyes as she cocked back her hand and slapped him.

He smirked. "She get that talent from you?"

Morgan caught her arm easily this time, saving his cheek. Her eyes flew open as he yanked her to him, his steely grip tightening as she realized her mistake and tried to pull her arm free. Savoring the moment she was forced to look up at him, her blue eyes refusing to beg for release. The air crackled, growing thick with anger.

His admiration for her grew in that moment. It also fueled a desire to break her-prove he wasn't a weak-willed boy to be played and then laughed about. He forced her arm down, pinning her wrist behind her back, forcing her up uncomfortably on her toes. The feel of her lush breasts drawing heavy, ragged breaths against his body made him hard-so stiff she stopped wiggling against his grip and flushed as her nipples thickened under the flimsy material of her dress.

Deliberately, she wet her lips and taunted him. "What do you _really_ want, Morgan?" she asked in a breathy whisper. "To hurt me? Go ahead. I got seventy g's and laid. Punish me some more."

"Do you think I'm that stupid?" Morgan callously moved her trapped wrist a fraction of an inch, pressing it firmly into the small of her back. "You wanted an in with Sonny. When you realized Mikey was the Golden One, you pushed her at him. You were manipulating me, but if I couldn't win, Mikey was good enough. I should thank you. No one's picked me ahead of Mikey before."

"I..._what_? What good was Michael to me? He was constantly with AJ at ELQ. He's Sonny's _stepson_. _Blood_ and loyalty matters-from what I could see, Michael had neither."

The denials only made him madder. "Just admit it-you were working Mikey-"

"No-never."

"Stop! EVERY one knows how precious Mikey is to my father!" Anger exploded in his chest. "Kiki knew two minutes after they met. You _had_ to have figured it out. What I don't understand is what angle you're playing now. Telling me not to hate Sonny one minute-recruiting me the next."

"Hey-" Ava's cheeks were red with anger. "I kept warning you to stay out of my business-"

"But not your bed." Morgan waited for some quick retort. But none came. Ava started to squirm, trying to wriggle feeling into her fingers and lower back to her heels. "That's all I mean to you, isn't it?"

Ava swallowed nervously, primal instinct flashing a warning to her brain. Before she could react, Morgan was pushing her through the bedroom door and shoving her down on the bed. Struggling to her elbows, she watched him rip open the drawer of her nightstand, scattering its contents on the floor.

Grabbing what he wanted, Morgan threw her vibrator on the mattress beside her. "Go fuck yourself. That's what you need. Not me."

Punching the door and smothering a curse, Morgan exited shaking his hand. Adrenaline wilted out of her as she sank back against the mattress. She was no stranger anger and bad endings. He hadn't hurt her outright-even though she sensed he'd wanted to, emotionally at least. Her arm was already tingling back to life as the circulation returned.

This was for the best.

She lied there while her heartbeat slowed, wondering how to present this to Julian. After tonight, Morgan was no longer an asset to him. Sonny's security would double...triple, even. Best to play up Morgan's lack of experience, congratulate Julian on tactically using Danny, and get him thinking further down the plan. Then she should weekend back in the city, find an old flame. Julian would know before the sun rose the next morning. Both she and Morgan would be safer if neither could be used against the other.

Drained, she rose, unzipping and letting her dress crumple at her feet. Tying her silk robe closed, wandered back to her living room, intending to lock and bolt her door.

Morgan stood at her window, fists in his pockets, staring silently at the illuminated skyline.

"I thought you'd gone," she said quietly. Morgan turned his head, acknowledging her presence, then reverted to the view. Sighing, Ava sat down at her desk, pulled out the bottom drawer, and opened the small safe fitted within. Withdrawing two modest stacks of bills, she evened out the remaining cash before closing both safe and drawer. "You're gonna need this."

"I don't want your money, Ava. Let's just call it even, serviced for bed and board."

"Call it a finder's fee then-a commission on what I took from your father."

"Yeah, I guess that's what a piece of crap would do," he replied sarcastically.

"Fine," Ava said coolly. "Keep saying that, and it won't take long to be back in your father's graces."

"That's what Mikey called me...a piece of crap." There was no emotion in the young man's voice, the vitrol he'd aimed at her dissapated completely. "He steals my wife, lies again and again to my face-and I'm crap."

"When was this?"

"At the docks. Of course he had to chase me down after I left the gallery. Continue his lecture on betrayal and what a failure I am. He told me they "belonged" together. What a joke. Then he decided to kick my ass."

"You don't look beat up."

"Just humiliated. Your slap hurt worse."

"That's adrenaline talking," Ava replied. Walking to the window, she attempted to turn his head to examine his face more closely, only to have him jerk away from her touch. "Let me see," she cajoled.

Resigned, he turned to face her. He flinched when she tested his cheekbone, which was slightly swollen and starting to turn an ugly shade of yellow.

"Sit down," she ordered, guiding him to the same chair she'd sat in when he'd arrived. Going to the bar, she wrapped ice in a towel and laid it on the bruised area, guiding his hand up to keep it steady.

Ava knelt beside the chair. "Listen to me. Tell your father Julian threatened you. You couldn't figure out a way to warn him-tell him Julian had you under surveillance. He'll believe you panicked. You-"

"Of course he will-this little piece of crap can't figure his way out of a paper bag, right?"

"Pay attention," she ordered, grabbing his chin firmly. "Michael shouldn't have said that. He didn't have a gun in his face. It's not a crime to admit you're in over your head. Screw what Michael thinks. Don't play his game. If you want out-grab this chance."

"You want me gone."

If there was anything left of her conscience, she didn't want him on it. "All things end, Morgan."

"I should go." Morgan rose abruptly, shoving the icy damp towel back into her hand. He knew he should say something-but everything running through his head sounded too sappy to ever be said out loud. Shrugging, he stuck with the simplest. "Later."

"Morgan-wait," Ava called out as he strode toward the door. Grabbing the money, she shoved it into his hand and pressed it to him. "Just take it-go away for a while."

"I don't need anything from you. I've got enough-"

"You're not going to make up with your father, are you?" Ava asked and answered it in her next breath. "Of course you're not, even if you weren't too damn proud, you can't stand your father thinking less of you than he does of Michael. The same thing with your mother. Which means you've got nothing and no one here. By 7 am, those credit cards in your wallet will be cut off, that sportscar towed back to your father's garage. You must have some one-doesn't your grandmother live out west somewhere? If not...I've got friends-_legitimate_ friends who owe me favors all across the country. You could do anything-"

"You care about me."

Ava wanted to shake the lovesick out of him.

"I _meant_ what I told my old man-the Jeromes are my family now. Julian must pay well-that's what paid for this, right?" he asked, knowing that Ava never settled for less than the best and the best never came cheap.

"I'm comfortable," she coolly evaded.

Morgan shook his head. "Do you trust anyone?"

"I trust myself. I trust Julian, but I know his interests come first. Otherwise no."

He was disappointed, but that was the answer he'd expected. They had been an accident, and with the truth out, there was no reason for Ava to continue playing him. He pulled a fifty from the wad of cash and handed it back to her. "I'll pay you back with my first paycheck."

Ava peeled off a few more and slipped them into his jacket pocket. "You deserve better than some fleabag motel."

"This is for the doorman," Morgan smiled. "I can flop at the Metro Court tonight. The staff will let me into my mom's office if nothing else."

"Oh," Ava said slowly.

Everything now said, a heavy silence hung between them, growing awkward as neither of them moved, unsure of how to play this last beat of what had been. Finally, Morgan cleared his throat and motioned he was leaving. "You okay?" he whispered.

"I've been on my own for a long-," Ava blushed.

"No-" he interrupted earnestly. "I meant-tonight-your arm. I shouldn't have done that. I was mad. I had to hear the truth from you."

"It was business. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you."

Morgan swooped in and kissed her. Ava let the moment flow over her, refusing to weigh advantages or plot outcomes. She let the cash in her hands drop and wound her arms around his neck instead. His tongue burrowed deep into her mouth, and she pressed her body flush against his.

Finally, Morgan broke the contact of their lips. Ava opened her eyes, her arms retreating as she prepared for him to pull away.

"Can't we be _personal_?" His voice was a husky whisper. "I care about you. We're honest with each other. What happened before-who gives a fuck? We're on the same side now. Aren't we stronger together?" he reasoned, "than separate and lonely?"

"Morgan-" His hands were running possessively down her sides, making it hard to think about anything other than his bare skin on hers. Standing so close was playing havoc with the rest of her senses, and a warmth was beginning to throb between her thighs.

It took all her willpower, but she finally said, "No."

"_Tell_ me to go-"

"Stop kidding yourself-"

Morgan easily lifted her up, carrying her into the bedroom and deposited her on the mattress again-this time sliding a knee between her thighs and lowering himself on top of her. Their tongues dueled while he caressed her breasts and rocked his growing erection against the soft inner flesh of her thigh.

Ava moaned softly, her nipples chafing against the silk of her robe, sending exquisite flashes of desire straight to her core. While he wriggled his jacket off, she made quick work of his belt, pulling his shirt free of the waistband and running her hands over his slim hips to his ass, digging her nails lightly into the firm cheeks. His cock swelled, making her slick and achy.

Growing frustrated with the wispy layer of silk keeping them separated, Morgan fumbled with the belt, only to knot it and find his fingers ineffectual. Ava brushed them aside, rolled him onto his back and straddled him. Her slim fingers made quick work of the tangle, and slid the robe off her shoulders, drinking in the way his gaze lingered over her.

"Let me guess-you can't tie a tie either," she said huskily, taking his hand and sliding her fingers between his. When he flinched when she brought them up to her mouth, she saw the scrapes and how swollen his knuckles were. "What the hell, Morgan?"

"He kicked my ass. I never said I didn't kick him back," Morgan replied as Ava opened his shirt and found bruising along his ribs.

"Oh, Morgan-" Ava leaned forward, lightly tracing the edge of his bruises as she kissed him. "I think you need a doctor," she whispered into his ear.

"No," Morgan insisted. "I want _you._ He silenced her protests, cupping one lush breast and devouring the other, swiping his tongue along the heavy fullness to her nipple and drawing it into his mouth. He suckled greedily, teasing with his teeth to a fine sharp point. Breathing heavily, Ava arched into him, biting his earlobe as he repeated it on the other side, waves of pleasure and hints of pain spiraled through her.

Pulling away, her feet hit the floor as her breast freed with a wet, sucking pop. Beckoning him to the edge of the bed, his lips went to her neck as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. Ava undressed him slowly, tugging at his shoes, running her hands over his calves before peeling off his socks, stroking his thighs through the thin wool before consigning them to a floor in a heap.

Already thick and full, she welcomed him with her mouth, her tongue flowing over him. Morgan forgot to breathe, the velvety suction driving instinct from his brain. He slid his hand up her arm, subconsciously kneading the flesh above her elbow at the same tempo she caressed his scrotum. The pressure to fill her gnawed at him. Wrapping his hand in her hair, he watched the steady bobbing of her head, friction and drag pushing him to the edge of his control.

"Ava-" Her name hissed from his lips.

It was a welcome relief to feel her move into him, cradling her ass to his hips as she sank rigid flesh into her steamed depth. It drove a blissful groan from Morgan's lips. His arm banded around, supporting her at the waist while she rode him hard.

A faint, blurred image of them reflected off the window, clear enough to see the ectasy building on her face as he felt it thrum through the rest of her body. Ava ground back against him, circling her hips, then countered. Caught off-guard, Morgan exploded, spending himself in staccato bursts. The was a long, slow tremor that Ava succumbed to, wringing the last moments of sinful pleasure from his body.

Her head rested back on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her warmly. "There is still time to back out of this, Morgan," Ava said softly. "It's more problems where Julian's concerned. You're _free_. Do you understand?"

"Is that all I mean to you?"

Ava refused to answer, asking another question instead. "Why didn't you rat me out? Blamed it all on me, the scheming, manipulative bitch. Your father would have ate it up. Forgiven anything you'd been forced to do."

"Left you with a target on your back, while daddy cooed over my stupidity and Mikey gloated and pitied me? No."

The words swelled in Ava's heart. "No one's ever done that for me. Considered me worth protecting."

"Julian must have."

"He's spent most of his life in hiding. Silas left. Franco has obsessions not relationships."

"Then they're the stupid ones."

"Maybe." The word was laced with regret. Ava bit her lip, wondering how he would remember this day in the future, when he realized more things about her, and if he would regret ever thinking well of her. "Tomorrow-you should go to Julian yourself. Reaffirm your loyalty. And afterwards, I'll introduce you to Carlos. He's the best-that's why he's Julian's right hand. More importantly I trust him."

"You and he..._ever_?"

"I'm not a welcome-to-the-Jeromes complimentary basket," Ava scoffed. "I've seen his professional work first hand." She didn't bother to add he had sharpened her proficiency with firearms. "He'll teach you the skills you need to succeed. He won't hold us against you. You need to learn quickly-."

"Check." Morgan lifted her off him, stretching before sitting back against the headboard. "Can we go over the rest in the morning? You've worn me out tonight."

"Carlos should check those ribs in the morning-" she started, climbing into bed beside him.

"Why don't you?"

Ava couldn't help but smile at brazen invitation. "We'll discuss that in the morning."


End file.
